


Cold Feet

by Bethofbells



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: Established, F/M, Fluff, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:30:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1708289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethofbells/pseuds/Bethofbells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot. Danny is a blazing furnace, and Mindy is a cool drink of water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Feet

**A/N: I'm totally blocked on the multi chapter fic i'm writing, sooooo I wrote this instead. Comments and reviews are appreciated. I'm going through tmp withdrawls over here. I need more. :O**

He felt rather than saw the sunlight streaming into his room, the warmth settling on his face. It was out of the ordinary for him, usually getting up before the sun peaked over the horizon. But everything was somehow a little different than usual, a lazy Saturday, a treat he rarely allowed himself. But he was content to while away the rest of his weekend, tangled in the sheets with her.

His eyes flew open. With her? Yes, with her. He hadn't lost her, she was resting in his arms, her legs intertwined with his, the sheet bunched and twisted in a way physics would be hard pressed to explain. She was a restless sleeper, tossing and turning, mumbling incoherent sentences into his skin as she settled back against him. Always back against him.

He'd never slept with someone quite so intent on cuddling. He understood that window of time directly after sex, both of them utterly spent, when she reached for him, settling under his chin, her sweat slicked skin sticking to his in a way that should have been offputting, but somehow wasn't. It was instinctual, the release of chemicals in her brain urging her into the shelter of his arms. He understood needing that particular feeling of their breaths syncing up as they stretched out, chest to chest, drifting off to sleep.

But never in his life had he encountered someone who subconsciously craved his embrace. He was a furnace, as so many past girlfriends had pointed out, voices tinged with irritation as they kicked off the blankets, extricating themselves from his overheated touch. He understood their irritation. It couldn't have been comfortable sleeping in a sauna. He tried not to think about how bereft he felt when he listened to his partner drift off to sleep, intentionally rolling away from him.

Mindy should have been just like all the others in that respect. If he were an author, he would have been tempted to employ that oft used literary device, the one where writers imbue their characters with physical traits symbolic of their personality. She would have been the fiery red-head, eyes brightly radiating heat like the embers from a fire, her skin scorching him when he touched her. That would have matched her personality. She was a being composed of sunshine and heat if there ever was one.

But Mindy was frequently cold. Her toes were little ice cubes as she bounded across the bedroom, darting under the covers with him, always tucking her feet between his legs, sometimes hooking the bottom of his flannel pajamas with her big toe to run her foot up the length of his calf, eliciting an irritated hiss from Danny more than half the time.

He'd tried to persuade her, on so many occasions to just wear socks to bed, receiving a stern lecture or two about how unsexy that would be. He always conceded fairly quickly in arguments regarding clothing of any kind. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, her nose usually matched the temperature of her toes as it pressed up against the back of his neck before she settled into his arms at her proper place, face just in the hollow beneath his chin. It wasn't like he could put a sock on her head too, although the thought had crossed his mind a time or two when she'd been excitedly chattering on about Justin Bieber acting a fool in South America. That particular conversation had quickly flown over his head.

Her hands were cold too, but not icy like her toes and nose, just cool. These were the hands some overly dramatic author would invent, they would be lain gently upon a feverish child's forehead, the only thing saving the poor thing from certain death. They were always that way, even if she'd been excitedly hopping around in his bathroom, lip syncing to her favorite Katy Perry song as she brushed her teeth, her cool touch would still send shivers up his spine when she slipped into bed with him, her hands sneaking under his night shirt, settling anywhere from his collar bone to his navel, occasionally dipping lower beneath the elastic of his boxers.

He grumbled about it, that was for sure, questioning her about possible circulatory problems, or discreetly hidden ice packs. The grouchiness a habit he couldn't break free from after so many years of practice. He didn't mean a single word of it. He loved the unexpected little thrills he got when she slipped into bed with him. Especially when she got home late from a delivery, her chilly touch pulling him from deep slumber. He never slept through her arrival home, her cold extremities making sure that he was conscious enough to greet her.

It was natural that they drift apart during the night, their dreams often shifting them in opposite directions, but it was as though her body needed his, and she always drifted back to him, twisting in the sheets, pulling them from their carefully tucked corners, her cold hands continually searching for him.

She claimed she never slept quite so well as when she was with him. He found it hard to believe, unable to count the number of times she woke him in the middle of the night with her tossing and turning. He mentioned it once, and she'd given him the most perplexed look he'd ever seen. "I don't know what you're talking about. I sleep like a serene angel."

"You sleep like a deranged mental patient fighting her restraints. You literally woke up yesterday wrapped up in the sheets like a burrito because you turned over so many times."

"You sure you don't have some weird mummy kink or something?"

He'd merely shaken his head, kissing her soundly as laughter rumbled through his chest. "Sure, I wrap my serene angel up like a mummy while she clings to me like a life raft adrift in a sea of blankets. It really gets my motor running."

"I knew it." The conversation had quickly devolved into a more in depth discussion of kinks. Danny's second grade teacher would have been proud of the progress he'd made in the 'show and tell' department. He was a lot more verbal these days.

Even when they fought, which of course happened pretty frequently (was it really necessary to snooze the alarm ten times before she got up?), in sleep she still wrapped her arms around him, tucked her feet between his legs. In fact, when she went to bed angry, she seemed to be several degrees more affectionate in her unconscious state. She would fight it though, lying down with her back to him, curled up in the fetal position.

On those nights he would wait. Listening to her breathing as it slowed and evened out. She was like clockwork, he could time it. Within ten minutes the huffy irritation evened out into a soft snore. Then all it took was one touch. A lightly traced finger on the back of her neck, his knee brushing up against the back of her leg, and she'd turn to him, reaching out with her cool hands, mumbling endearments against his skin.

Last night had been one of those nights. They'd argued all the way home, making the other passengers on the train uncomfortable. It was a trivial thing, something about the midwives. Danny couldn't help it, knowing her past with Brendan always made him slightly overreact when she displayed anything other than disdain for the practice upstairs. It had been something about meditating, the irksome flyers (weren't they supposed to be environmentally conscious?) lying on top of their mail.

He'd immediately tossed the one in his pile into his waste basket, while she had read hers diligently, commenting to Jeremy about implementing some sort of meditation in their care regimen. That would have been fine, if she hadn't uttered the next sentence. "The mind and body are intricately connected."

It was a mantra of the Deslauriers, he heard it on a weekly basis in the elevator. Duncan and Brendan were both always trying to offer him friendly advice, Duncan's perhaps more friendly than Brendan's. Hearing it come verbatim from Mindy's lips had just sent him over the edge. A part of him he hated came out, the jealous insecure idiot, and he'd begun railing against the evils of replacing modern medicine with 'new age hoopla.' All the while wondering how many times Brendan had uttered 'the mind and body are intricately connected' while taking liberties with her body. He'd riled himself up, even going so far as to say, "Anyone who believes that crap needs to have their medical degree revoked."

So they'd argued, all the way home, Mindy citing medical journals with studies that had supported the Deslauriers' medical practices, including meditation, hypnotism, and even the very real healing properties of the placebo effect. While Danny rebutted with his own recollections of holistic disasters when he worked in the ER, the many times they'd had to take over a midwife's patient because of medical complications...on and on.

The thing of it was, he knew he was wrong, but he couldn't stop. He was blinded by jealousy, his rational side powerlessly watching it all from afar. This was one thing about himself that he knew he had to change, and honestly it had been so long since they'd had a jealousy fueled argument such as this.

When they'd finally arrived home, they'd eaten dinner in silence, retreating to their own work spaces to read and do paperwork, then later continuing with their usual bathroom routine. Danny showering first, and crawling into bed to read while she completed her nightly rituals.

Danny always hated the silence. More than anything he wanted to hear her voice before he went to sleep, even if it was to praise the pretentious prick that worked above them, so he apologized, conceding to everything she'd been saying, because really she was right all along. "I'm sorry, Min. I love you."

But, he'd done the one thing he knew he should never do when arguing with her. He'd insulted her intelligence, which meant she wasn't quite ready to forgive him, not without a little more groveling. She wasn't heartless though, she'd kissed him softly before saying, "I love you too, jerk."

And he'd patiently waited for her to fall asleep, finally hearing her breathing drop low, followed by the immediate rustle of the sheets as she reached for him. He'd felt like the world's biggest fool at that very moment, that his jealousy was the most unfounded thing to ever exist. He'd spent the better part of the night formulating a more intricate apology, perhaps involving some extravagant breakfast foods, and a very one sided session of lovemaking.

He'd finally drifted off smiling, the sound of a very muffled 'I love you' tickling against his neck, her lips pressing unconscious little kisses to the skin there.

Now here he was, draped in her limbs, the sheet twisted around his legs, pinning him to the spot more effectively than any form of restraint. He waited again, this time for her to climb out of slumber, her eyes slowly opening as she stretched against him.

She sighed, a little purring noise that sent desire stirring through his limbs, even as he searched her face for forgiveness. The contentment on her face when allowed to sleep in rarely had its equal.. A broad smile spreading across her face before she arched up to kiss him. "Good morning, jerk."

The corner of his mouth involuntarily twitched up, curving under the soft feel of her lips as he went in for another taste. "So, I was thinking, breakfast in bed?"

She nodded, not saying anything, a clear sign for him to continue. "Some... leisure activities?" He slipped his hand between her legs, cupping her gently as he gaged her reaction. Her darkened eyes and quickly sucked in breath told him he was on the right path. "And maybe later we can go sign up for a meditation class somewhere, learn some techniques to teach our patients?"

She softened, laying her head on his chest as she drew shiver inducing circles on his chest. "Sure... sure... and maybe some techniques to help you deal with your misplaced and totally unattractive jealousy?"

He nodded, feeling suddenly embarrassed that his unpleasant behavior yesterday was so transparent. Kicking at the covers around his feet, he finally disentangled them. "I'm working on that."

"I know." She trailed kisses along his neck, brushing her nose against his chin, before pulling back. "I mean, jealousy isn't always a bad thing. When you see cute guys ogling me on the subway and step a little closer to me, settling your arm around my waist, I do get a little short of breath. And when you settle your palm possessively over my ass, kissing me deeply after some guy buys me a drink at a bar, well, quite frankly it's hot."

He squeezed the aforementioned anatomy, capturing her lips, kissing her gently. She responded, squirming against him in the tangle of sheets. Reluctantly she pulled away, her lips swollen from his attentions. "But, and it's a big one, this midwife jealousy thing is seriously annoying. Brendan is the last person on earth you need to be jealous of." She took a deep breath, prepared to enumerate the ways in which his jealousy was unfounded, but he interrupted her.

"I know."

Her eyebrows raised as a pleasantly surprised smile crept across her face, morphing into a small smirk. "Oh really?"

"Really." A weight lifted off his chest, as it always did when they finished a fight. "So, breakfast?"

Yawning hugely against him, she peered over at the clock. "One more hour?" She knew she didn't have to ask, Danny would spend all day in bed with her if she wanted. She shivered slightly, drawing in closer to him. He pulled the blanket back over them, contentment engulfing him as her hands snaked up under his shirt, her feet tucking between his legs. Goosebumps chased across his skin, before his own heat seeped into her limbs. A contented sigh escaped her as she drifted off once again. Thank God for cold feet.


End file.
